A Real Christmas
by JaycenMackenzie
Summary: Christmas has some of the Avengers feeling lonely. But by the end of the day, they're all gathered around an open fire and comparing stories of bad Christmases past.


Not many people in big cities knew how to cook. Aside from scrambled eggs, macaroni and cheese, and other basic American dishes, those of the generation of technology had little home cooking experience.

Although he was not quite of the new, hip generation, he certainly wasn't old. Tony Stark had survived on pizza, foreign-but-not-foreign takeout, and liquor for the past twenty years.

Since he moved out on his own without any of his parents' staff, nutrition was not of any importance. With pizza orders not even requiring him to verbally communicate with anyone, Tony found it extremely easy to have his A.I. order his meals.

Occasionally, he would go out to some fancy restaurant with some important people (primarily Pepper), and the food was great. But in public he wasn't allowed to drink his needed amount of alcohol. There was also one place that served delicious lobster bisque, but there was a dreadful selection of booze.

At home, he could have chicken nuggets with a bottle of vodka, and no one but JARVIS could bother him about it.

Christmas time was always the worst when it came to food. Countless parties were held, all of which he was forced to go to by Pepper (for publicity, she'd say). But on Christmas Day, sitting alone on his bed with a wicked hangover, Tony couldn't help but feel lonely.

There were two eras of Christmas for Tony: the Before Pepper era, and the With Pepper era. Before Pepper, Tony drank himself to unconsciousness whilst watching Christmas movies in the morning. The first Christmas after he'd hired Pepper, she'd turned up at his doorstep on Christmas Eve bearing a chocolate basket. Although she couldn't stay as she was going home to her family for the holidays, she delayed her flight so she could get him a present.

He didn't think much of it initially; He was too piss drunk to care. The next morning, he found his basket half empty, with only a vague recollection of stuffing his face the night before. So, that morning, he'd made himself a coffee, a proper breakfast of toast and eggs, and sat in his workshop. Over the past few weeks he'd been tinkering with a rough prototype for a new weapon.

The sketches (stained with coffee, rum, and blood - from breaking many cups) were strewn all over his work table, intermingled with a couple rudimentary and ancient textbooks outlining basic mechanics. He found it important to research others findings on his future projects, just in case he created something too similar to theirs.

Of course, whatever he made would be much improved versions, but it wasn't his style to copy others ideas. He just borrowed them.

Anyhow, at the bottom of Pepper's gift laid a recipe booklet. Flipping through it, he found a recipe from every corner of the world, many dishes of which he had never heard of. That evening, he decided that he would try out a traditional Italian dish.

JARVIS always had his kitchen stocked for events like that, so Tony got to work, turning up his music and tying on an apron.

The dish seemed simple enough at first. An hour later, after much chopping, mixing, burning, and cussing, there was a very sad-looking dish and a very frustrated and hungry Tony.

Halfway through cooking, Tony had consumed some of the cooking wine and even tipsy, the food looked unappetizing. The dish only looked vaguely like the picture on the recipe page. Still, he waited for the dish to cool a little, then took a bite, anticipating the worst.

It was really damn good.

Despite it being the size of two loaves of bread, he'd finished most of it, stuffing himself until he felt like his stomach was about to burst. Washing it down with a bottle of Chardonnay, Tony felt very satisfied by the end of the night. It had been the best Christmas since he'd moved out of his family home.

Then Afghanistan happened, and everything was different. That experience had really changed him (for the better or for the worse, depending on who asked). Luckily, he had Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, and all his robots to help him through the traumatic experience.

The Christmas of that year was different. Everyone stayed with him. Although they had their own families, his friends decided to spend Christmas with him in Malibu.

Rhodey and Pepper cooked, following a recipe Tony suggested, while Happy and Tony prepared drinks, set the table, and put up decorations. With the holiday music playing in the background while they ate, a fake fire burning on the big screen, and laughter ringing out every couple minutes, Tony, for once, felt like he had a family again.

Then, the Mandarin decided to ruin Tony's Christmas plans in Malibu, so he was forced to relocate to snowy New York. His tower, tentatively dubbed "Avengers Tower", was still undergoing repairs from the Battle of New York. While the Hulk got a few good hits on Loki, the damage done to the tower was not something Tony appreciated.

The irony that only the "A" in "STARK" sign on his building was left standing really hit Tony hard. Perhaps it was the newfound sense of being on a team or something like that that made him come up with that idea. Or maybe it was because Phil Coulson decided to leave him a voice message about the Avengers before his death.

Whatever the reason, Tony decided to open up his tower to the other members of the Avengers. None of them were full-time residents, of course; They all had their own lives and such.

Bruce Banner was the most frequent visitor, as his occupation only took up bouts of time that he deemed necessary. Self-employed and all that. Every month or so Bruce would crash with Tony and they would have a jolly good time "doing sciencey crap" (Clint had muttered once).

Steve Rogers's ancient SHIELD-issued flat in Brooklyn had little amenities. His electric stove was of questionable safety, once even catching on fire while boiling soup. So when he wanted a real meal, he would drop by the tower. Or if the mission dropped him off at the SHIELD headquarters in Manhattan, he would likely collapse in his incredibly soft bed at Tony's.

The other three rarely dropped by, as each had their own reasonably nice homes. Thor had his own life as prince back in Asgard with a room the size of Tony's whole tower. Natasha Romanoff had a nice place somewhere in the city, although not even Clint knew how she got it or where it was. Clint Barton's own flat was decked out like a treehouse, so he always preferred to stay at his own place.

SHIELD blew to bits the spring after the whole Mandarin ordeal. Black Widow, Captain America, and even Hawkeye went off the radar. Despite Tony's advanced locating systems, they were nowhere to be seen.

Bruce was in a northern African country somewhere, though Tony lost eyes on him as well. Thor had appeared in London, England, but disappeared as soon as Tony managed to track him.

The Avengers were missing, JARVIS alerted Tony of a helicarrier locking in on him, and Pepper was in Malibu overseeing the reconstruction of the mansion. Everything was going to pot and Tony was alone again, about to be blown up.

A week after HYDRA imploded within SHIELD, and the secrets of the interconnected organizations exposed by Natasha, Clint stumbled into the common floor of the tower. He collapsed on the couch, face-planting his dirtied face into Pepper's expensive fur cushions. That was around three o'clock in the morning, so Tony and Bruce had been in the lab rocking out to some Led Zeppelin. (Bruce was actually asleep with construction-grade headphones on and Tony was a bit drunk but wide awake.) JARVIS had alerted Tony and Bruce after shutting off the music, and they hurried up to see Clint asleep in his torn clothes.

One by one after that the rest of the Avengers trickled into the tower. After packing up his things from Brooklyn, Steve moved in with his new friend, Sam Wilson. But some HYDRA leftovers had targeted Captain America and nearly blew up Sam's house before Steve took the agents out.

That incident made Steve reluctant to keep his friend in danger, although he knew Sam could take care of himself. The only other person Steve knew would take him in (via the messages Stark left with the Avengers team; "In case of emergency," he'd said.)

So after apologizing to and thanking Sam, he found himself at the front doors of Stark Tower. He'd been taken up to the 24th floor, where he'd expected to find Stark waiting for him. Instead, he came face to face with Maria Hill. She was wearing a dress (which he took in with surprise) and a sour expression. But when she saw him, she quickly grabbed him in a hug, telling him that she was glad to see him up and about. From there, she led Steve up to where Stark and the others were, and dropped him off there.

Then Thor arrived. He'd been staying in London with his girlfriend, Jane, until they'd broken up a couple days before. He'd taken a plane to New York, and complained about how slow the flight had been. Also, he'd said that checking into the airport two hours early was a waste of his time, the metal detectors were too sensitive, and that he would have to call for Mjolnir, which was all the way in London. But he then spotted Tony's liquor cabinet and was instantly satisfied.

Lastly, months later with the first snowfall of the season, Natasha arrived. With a dark red suitcase by her side and a shiny black handbag on the counter, Natasha appeared in the kitchen one morning, preparing a coffee for herself.

There was little action happening within the villainous community. It seemed like they were taking the holidays off as well. Little was heard of HYDRA these days, and instead, everyone knew that the "goddamn price of baubles were going up!"

It was the week before Christmas when Stark Tower began feeling empty. Everyone dribbled out one by one. They were all visiting their own families, friends, coworkers, "anyone but Tony".

So instead of being alone in his tower, Tony decided to return to Malibu where his half-finished mansion stood, not nearly as proud as before. The designs were a bit different. There was more stability by the cliff side (the foundation dug deep into the ground), and no underground somewhat-secret lair full of Iron Man suits.

Most of his lab was completed, as well as his living quarters. All that was left to finish were the "extra stuff" that Pepper deemed unnecessary, but Tony had insisted on adding. There were about six extra guest rooms, three game rooms, two big movie rooms, and an indoor hot tub in every bathroom.

In other words, Tony couldn't wait to move back to Malibu.

It was Christmas Eve and Pepper had him out doing errands. She was in Pennsylvania visiting relatives and had forgotten about the dry cleaning she'd left unattended, some book orders that were supposed to arrive a week before, and a whole bunch of other errands that Tony found ridiculous.

Pepper never forgot to do her errands. Plus, she doesn't normally drop off her dry cleaning at the place he'd been sent to. Obviously, she was toying with him, probably just to distract him from the fact that he was alone once again. He had JARVIS and his other robot buddies, but he couldn't take shots with them.

With all the errands that Pepper had kept him busy with, he hadn't been able to sit down and have a proper drink. It was a tradition that he'd drink himself unconscious on Christmas Eve.

By the end of the day, he was so tired that he'd fallen straight to sleep as soon as his head hit the cushions.

The next day, Tony didn't wake up until nearly noon. With a halfhearted "Merry Christmas" to JARVIS, Tony shuffled out of bed and to the kitchen to prepare some food. Oddly enough, the fridge was empty. Feeling very grumpy and hungry, Tony asked JARVIS to send someone over with pizza, only to be reminded that nothing was open that day.

Quite frustrated, he collapsed onto the couch with a bottle of rum in hand. Just as he popped the lid open, JARVIS told him about an emergency at Stark Tower.

So, seeing no other option, Tony bitterly thought of how much faster it would be if he had an Iron Man suit and hurried to reach his jet that was touching down in a few minutes.

It was something about two tons of strawberries accidentally being delivered to Stark Tower by accident and Pepper was unable to be contacted. Tony wasn't thinking very straight with his hunger clouding his thoughts, and brushed aside the thought of "Pepper's allergic to strawberries".

A few hours later and after a long drive zigzagging through traffic to the tower, he realized how unclearly he'd been thinking. His tower was as steel grey as always. No piles of shiny red fruits flooding his doorstep.

"JARVIS, what am I doing here?" he muttered as he entered the front foyer.

"Who's here, JARVIS?" Tony asked. Again, no answer. "I built you too intelligent. I don't know a single other AI who withholds information from their boss."

"Thank you, sir," was the response from JARVIS.

Tony arrived at the common area of the living quarters of the tower. It smelled like heaven, but it was completely dark except for the area at the opposite end of the room. There was some music playing faintly, the song sounding like "Jingle Bells".

"JARVIS, you shouldn't have," Tony said, venturing further to the kitchen.

"Good, because he didn't do jack in terms of the cooking." Clint was the first one to be seen. He was delicately basting a giant turkey just outside of the oven.

"You shouldn't be talking," Pepper commented, getting up from behind the counter. She was managing a batch of delicious-looking chopped potatoes. "Oh, Tony, you're here. Get me the chives from the fridge."

He complied, blinking stupidly as he passed by the dining room where Thor and Natasha were setting up the table. Handing Pepper the chives, he patted her cheek, much to her annoyance.

"You're real," he muttered. "What are you all doing here? Don't you need some Kit Kat Tony time?"

Pepper frowned as she chopped the chives. "What?"

"Take a break from Tony time."

He heard Clint snicker from across the kitchen.

"We're here for Christmas dinner," Pepper said. "I need you to prepare the wine. The pot's already boiling on the stove. Watch over it, will you?"

He followed her orders and stirred the obscenely large pot of the drink. It must've been Thor's unending stomach for alcohol and Steve's super metabolism that sparked that idea.

"Guys, I found the candles." From the storage room Steve appeared, clutching a couple of brass candelabras. "There was no sign of the holiday-themed napkins, though."

He barely started upon seeing Tony. "Merry Christmas, Stark."

"You too, Rogers."

Half-an-hour later, they were all seated at the dining table, with Bruce last in. With snow dusting his coat and hair, he set a plastic bag in the kitchen and hurried to his seat, pulling his jacket off as he sat.

Tony was absolutely starving. He'd eaten some quiches on the plane ride but nothing since. Immediately, he tucked in, grabbing some turkey, stuffing, potatoes, cranberry sauce, some carrots, then drizzled gravy all over his plate.

The mulled wine was so good that Tony finished a whole glass within the first couple minutes. Along with Thor, he poured another full cup.

At the end of dinner, Maria Hill joined them, telling them that she'd flown all the way from Toronto, where her brother was, to New York, just for Natasha's stroganoff.

"None of the famous Romanoff's Stroganoff tonight?" she asked, gulping down the wine. "Because it's seriously the only reason I'd take two plane trips in economy in the same week." She sniffed. "I'm probably sick already."

"Pasta isn't a traditional Christmas dish," Natasha said, running her finger along her glass's rim. "Plus, Pepper didn't approve," she added in dramatically lower tones.

"I was going for an all-American dinner," Pepper said.

"Yeah, don't worry. You've done well. The stuffing's actually inside the turkey."

Two hours later, the pot of wine was finished, as well as all of the food (courtesy of Thor and Steve). With stuffed bellies and pink cheeks, the group migrated to the living room where they turned on the fireplace and turned down the music.

"This has been a great night," Thor said. He belched shortly afterward. "And the ale was delicious, Pepper."

"It really was," Clint added. He was perched on the edge of the couch

"Not that you drank much, you lightweight," Natasha said, patting her partner on the shoulder.

For some reason, some chestnuts were brought out and they began to roast them in the open fireplace. It was like that damned Christmas song that played over and over again but Pepper enjoyed immensely, Tony noted as he bit into a roasted chestnut.

"You know, guys," Bruce said as he watched the flames crackle beneath the chestnut pan, "this is like a real holiday."

"Well, it is," Tony commented.

Bruce ignored him. "The last few Christmases I was alone in some forsaken hut. There weren't even any patients needing to be tended to. It was like no one wanted to be around… the 'Big Guy'."

Tony scoffed. "My last Christmas was spent hauling my dead Iron Man suit behind me dressed in a poncho while my million dollar mansion was blown to pieces. Beat that."

Pepper shushed him.

"If we're going to be talking about crappy holidays, I'd like to add mine." Clint cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles theatrically. "I was in a hospital bed with three broken ribs and a fractured clavicle. There was also a giant hole in my calf from a pole being impaled in it."

"I was there with you," Hill muttered.

Clint glared pointedly at Natasha, who stared him down while saying, "I was being shot at in Jeddah, you idiot."

"Do you have Christmas in Asgard, Thor?" Steve asked the blonde god who had two chestnuts in his mouth.

Thor quickly swallowed. "Of a sort. We celebrate the winter solstice similarly to how the holidays are celebrated on Midgard. We have similar decorations, though not so many sparkling baubles. Our food does include much more meat and stronger ale, as well."

"What about you, Steve?" Tony asked. "How was Christmas in the good ol' medieval times?"

"Har har, very funny." Steve shifted in his seat in the armchair. "Actually, the holidays during the Depression weren't as festive as now. But my neighbourhood gathered for Christmas dinner every year. There'd be some sort of meat, mashed potatoes, cabbage salad, plum pudding if we could. We'd usually stock up for the special dinner, even if it meant no meat for a couple of days.

"Mind you, I did live in a poorer neighbourhood. Most people actually had real boiled chicken. Plus, my family and I would go to church Christmas morning."

Tony wasn't a religious man - he never had been, and never thought of it, considering his background. Still, he couldn't help but pray that these friends spread out around him would be with him for a long time.

He also wasn't much of feelings person either, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of family with them. Maybe it was because of how good of a team they were when it came to life-threatening situations. Perhaps it was how well a lot of them could cook. It was likely how well they could relate to one another. All of them had had a few lonely Christmases before.

Overall, the fact that they stayed (maybe for him, or maybe for themselves) made Tony feel uncomfortably warm and fuzzy inside - and it wasn't because of the wine.

"I'm so glad you can cook, Pepper," Tony muttered into her hair. He had his arms wrapped around her as she dozed off on the carpet.

Outside, he could still hear cars beeping their horns despite the late hour and snow. The city lights still shone brightly in the distance through the foggy and snowy sky.

Tony wasn't sure about everyone else, but it felt like a real Christmas to him.

.

A/N: fun fact: I based this whole story on "Romanoff's Stroganoff" just because it rhymed and stroganoff is a Russian dish.

Also, happy holidays! JM


End file.
